


Trust

by intergalactix



Category: Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: Bonding, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Pre-Relationship, cw: vague descriptions of needles and an injection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-05
Updated: 2017-04-05
Packaged: 2018-10-15 05:30:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10550886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/intergalactix/pseuds/intergalactix
Summary: Vetra learns that Ryder is a surgeon. Ryder learns why Vetra is afraid of doctors.





	

**Author's Note:**

> What started as a brief writing exercise quickly snowballed into this. Whoops! Hope you all enjoy some pre-relationship fluff between my gals.
> 
> Hugs and kisses to my big sisters saarebitch and calyah for their input and advice on this fic. I know I can always turn to them whenever I need to discuss ideas, and count on them to give me honest feedback. Love you two so very much! <3
> 
> EDIT: Minor changes made on 06 April 2017. It wasn't very clear, but I mixed up the location of the med bay on the Tempest, so dialogue has been edited to avoid confusion.

It was odd to be in the med bay without Lexi, Fatima couldn’t help but notice, especially so late into the Tempest's night cycle. She was already prone to hovering whenever Lexi was around, and Lexi had to chase her away whenever she overstayed her welcome. Despite the emergency she faced, Fatima felt like she was intruding, but she quickly banished those thoughts from her mind. She would worry about what Lexi would say later.

Vetra leaned heavily against her side, limping as Fatima steered her toward the nearest examination bed. Her ankle was either broken or sprained—Fatima still wasn't sure, having been unable to perform a proper examination in the field without her usual arsenal of equipment. Fatima pulled out the extending platform from the end of the bed to accommodate Vetra’s height before she helped her sit down. Vetra hissed through her teeth, pain written all over her face, but she otherwise offered no protest, letting Fatima manipulate her legs into place.

For the first time since boarding the ship, Fatima paused to take a steadying breath. Facing off with an Architect was just asking to get your ass kicked, as she and her team had discovered. Afterward, it had been a rush to haul ass back to Prodromos and the Tempest, strip out of their armor, and get Vetra to the med bay as quickly as possible for treatment. Fatima couldn’t remember the last time she’d needed drive the Nomad so fast.

“Get comfortable and hold still,” Fatima instructed. “I'm going to run a quick scan so I can determine how to proceed.”

Vetra nodded as she lowered herself onto her back, rearranging the pillow beneath her neck to support her head. She held her arms tightly against her sides and breathed in deeply, holding the air in her lungs for several seconds before releasing it with a shuddering exhale.

Fatima looked down at her, one eyebrow raised. She’d never seen Vetra, normally so unflappable and brave, the kind of woman who stood strong so others didn't have to, act so twitchy.

“Nervous?” she asked.

Vetra stared pointedly at the ceiling. “A little.”

Fatima nodded in understanding. Throughout her career, she’d seen many patients with white coat syndrome. She didn’t expect to see it from Vetra, but she would do her best to make the process quick and painless for her sake.

“Try to relax,” she said. “This won’t hurt a bit.”

She pressed a button on the side of the bed and activated the scanner. The twin arches arced over the bed began to move up and down the length of Vetra’s body, the machinery humming and beeping. Vetra stayed as rigid as a board, even when the scan finished.

Fatima leaned over the screen at the head of the bed and checked the readings displayed alongside Vetra’s vital signs. Her pulse and blood pressure were higher than normal, but that was to be expected, given her apparent anxiety over her injury. She was relieved, however, when she saw the diagram of Vetra’s skeleton highlighted in green.

“Good news,” she said. “It’s not fractured.”

Vetra let out a breath.

“I’d still like to examine you, though,” Fatima continued, turning her attention back to Vetra. “Just to be sure.”

Vetra’s mandibles quivered before pressing tightly against the sides of her face. She looked more than a little nervous now, bordering on fearful, and she refused to look Fatima in the eye.

Fatima frowned in confusion. “Something wrong?”

“It’s just—” Awkwardly, Vetra cleared her throat. “Maybe it’d be a better idea to wake Lexi up.”

“Oh?”

“She’s a doctor,” Vetra said. “I know you said my ankle isn’t broken, but what if—maybe this still isn’t something standard first aid training can handle.”

Fatima pressed her lips together to stave off her laughter, finally understanding where Vetra’s concerns were coming from. She offered Vetra a small, reassuring smile.

“Vetra,” she said, “I’m a doctor, too.”

Vetra’s eyes widened in realization.

“A surgeon, actually,” Fatima elaborated.

“Oh,” Vetra said, though she appeared to still be processing the new information. “Wait, really?”

“I went to medical school and did all my post-grad training on the Citadel before joining the Alliance,” Fatima explained. “I’m capable of operating on all of the council races and quarians. You’re in good hands with me.”

Vetra looked mortified, shaking her head in embarrassment. “Spirits, I feel like such an ass.”

“Why? You did nothing wrong.”

“Because I just told a _surgeon_ she wasn’t qualified to examine me,” Vetra said.

“I’m honestly just amazed you didn’t know.” Fatima smirked. “I thought you knew everything about everyone.”

“Guess this one slipped by me.”

“Well, I’ll be sure to hold it over your head for as long as possible.”

Vetra laughed, but her laughter was interrupted when she once again winced in pain. She cursed under her breath and glared daggers at her ankle.

Fatima followed her gaze and moved so she was standing at the foot of the bed. Her hands hovered above Vetra’s injured ankle, but she didn’t touch her.

When she tried to express herself with words, she could never get it right. But with her hands, she could shape things, make things, and fix things. Fatima had discovered that gift as a young girl when she had first learned how to apply a bandaid to a paper cut. It was that call to action that propelled her through medical school and saw her excel in the early years of her career.

Fatima wanted to help Vetra the best way she knew how, but that wasn’t what Vetra needed—not yet. What Vetra needed were words.

“I can tell this isn’t easy for you, so if you’d feel more comfortable having Lexi examine you, I can go wake her up and bring her here,” she said. “But I don’t want you to have to be in pain any longer than you have to be. Not when I can help you.”

Vetra was quiet for several long moments as she considered the options laid out before her. Eventually, she lifted her head and nodded her consent.

“I trust you, Ryder,” she said, finally meeting Fatima's eyes.

Fatima nodded back. “I’ll explain everything I’m doing before I do it, okay?”

“Okay,” Vetra said. She propped herself up on her elbows so she could watch. “Let’s get this done.”

“Let’s get this off first,” Fatima said, gesturing to Vetra’s boot. She undid the clasps and carefully slid it off her foot, setting it down onto the ground beside her. Vetra sighed with relief at the sudden lack of pressure as Fatima delicately rolled the bottom of Vetra’s pant leg up her calf.

Now that she could see it for herself, Fatima gave Vetra’s ankle a quick once-over. It was bruised and visibly swollen, but that seemed to be the extent of the damage. She saw no bleeding cuts, no gaping wounds, no bones poking out from places they shouldn’t be.

“Can you move it at all?” she asked.

“Sort of,” Vetra said, flexing her ankle the tiniest amount with another grimace. “It really hurts when I do, though.”

Nodding, Fatima decided to first check for breaks to confirm the results of the scan, not wanting to unnecessarily aggravate Vetra’s injury. She crossed the room and ran her hands under the med bay’s decontamination console before she pulled on a pair of purple examination gloves.

When she returned, she gently took hold of Vetra’s foot with one hand, keeping it still. She moved her other hand up the length of her ankle, fingers applying a slight amount of pressure against the bone as she went.

“Does it hurt when I press along the bone?”

Vetra shook her head.

Fatima moved her finger down to the side of Vetra’s ankle. “And here?”

“It's a little tender, but no.”

Fatima slid her fingers back down to the top of Vetra’s ankle, in the juncture where her foot and ankle met. When she applied pressure to the area, Vetra tensed and hissed in pain, curling her hands into fists.

“Ow!” she cried out. “ _That_ hurts.”

“Jackpot,” Fatima said. “You sprained a ligament.”

She let go of Vetra’s foot and walked back to the other side of the med bay. She rummaged through the storage cabinets until she found the supplies was looking for packaged neatly in a zipped-up canvas bag.

“I'd like to administer an injection of medi-gel to target the inflammation directly,” she said. “That should take care of it in a matter of hours.”

“Damn it,” Vetra grumbled. “I hate needles.”

“It’s either that or I tell Lexi to put you on medical leave for one to two weeks while your ankle heals on its own.”

Vetra scoffed.

“Figured you’d say that,” Fatima teased.

When she finished preparing the injection, Fatima turned and held the syringe behind her back, keeping it out of Vetra’s line of sight. She grabbed the bag containing the rest of the syringe kit and took it with her as well.

“You can close your eyes if you want,” she said. “Talking helps, too.”

Vetra lay her head back down against the pillow and closed her eyes just as Fatima returned to the examination bed. Gently, Fatima touched Vetra’s ankle and activated the scanner on her omni-tool, looking for the most suitable site for the injection.

“So,” Vetra said, voice trembling with her nerves, “medical school, huh?”

“Yep.”

“That must’ve been tough.”

“It had its moments,” Fatima replied. “I was too stubborn to drop out, though.”

Vetra managed a stunted laugh. “Sounds like you.”

Fatima chuckled as she began removing additional supplies from the bag, lining them up at the end of the examination bed.

“I wanted Lexi’s job, you know,” she said. “That’s why I joined the Alliance. My plan was to serve on a ship and explore space.”

“I’m guessing things didn’t go according to plan, then?”

“They never do,” Fatima remarked as she swabbed Vetra's ankle with an antiseptic wipe, and she hoped her sarcasm didn’t sound more like bitterness. “My background as a trauma surgeon was too valuable. When I was recruited, the brass said they wanted me in the field. I went to boot camp, received additional training as a combat medic, and that was that.”

“Makes sense,” Vetra said. She remained calm, her body relaxed, much to Fatima’s relief. “Did you still get to explore?”

Fatima felt strange talking about herself, too vulnerable and open for her liking, but if telling Vetra about her past would keep her appropriately distracted, then Fatima was willing. Vetra was also a good friend, and she had proven to be a sympathetic listener in the past. The only other person Fatima knew who understood where she was coming from was her brother, and Ali was in a coma.

She turned around and tossed the wipe into the garbage.

“A little,” she said. Slowly, she began injecting the medi-gel into Vetra’s ankle, watching Vetra’s face carefully for a reaction. If Vetra noticed the needle, she didn’t make it known. “I was assigned to a team of Prothean researchers. We traveled to a few different planets in search of Prothean artifacts and tech. But when my father got discharged from the Alliance that was the end of that.”

“Damn. That’s unfair.”

“Then came the Initiative,” Fatima went on. “Dad said I’d finally get to be the CMO of a starship and travel a whole new galaxy. But you know me and plans.”

“They don’t seem to like you very much,” Vetra remarked lightly.

“Not at all.” Fatima couldn’t help but laugh, shaking her head. “You’re actually doing me a big favor, V. I finally get to do what I came to Andromeda for.”

Vetra laughed with her. “No regrets, then, Dr. Ryder?”

Fatima considered the question. She had already made peace with her circumstances, but tonight was the first time she was able to say it aloud, to give voice to the feelings of resentment she held close to her chest and release them once and for all. Her life had never gone according to plan, but now she could move on and forgive: herself, for not fighting harder for what she wanted; her father, whose ambition often overshadowed and inhibited hers; destiny, for either abandoning her or simply never existing at all.

“None. Not like it matters much now, anyway, but even so.” Fatima allowed herself a moment to smile in Vetra’s direction, even though Vetra couldn’t see her. “I’m where I am now because of everything that’s happened to me. All things considered, the view’s looking pretty good from here.”

When at last the syringe was empty, Fatima carefully removed the needle from Vetra’s skin. She stood upright and dabbed at the injection site with a clean cotton pad, catching the single droplet of blue blood that seeped out.

“All done.”

“What?” Vetra asked. “Seriously?”

Fatima smirked. “Not so bad, right?”

Vetra opened her eyes and sat up. She stared down at her ankle in disbelief.

“I didn’t even feel that,” she said, sounding dazed.

“Here,” Fatima said, moving her hand away. “Try moving it now—carefully.”

Fatima left to discard the syringe, used supplies, and her gloves. In the meantime, Vetra gave her ankle an experimental twist and was surprised to find that she had already regained some of her mobility, no longer encountering the level of pain and resistance she had earlier.

“That feels a lot better already.”

“Good to hear,” Fatima said. She returned to Vetra’s side and folded her arms. “I’d like you to hang out here for just a little bit longer. Once the medi-gel reduces the inflammation some more you should be able to walk again.”

Vetra looked up at her and nodded, a smile brightening her face.

“Thanks, Ryder,” she said.

Fatima smiled back, pleased by the change she saw in Vetra already. For the first time since they entered the med bay, Vetra looked genuinely at ease.

“Wanna see something cool?” she asked. “Look at it again.”

Vetra did as she was told, but she seemed confused. “What am I supposed to be looking for?”

“See that?” Fatima asked, pointing to spot where she had injected the medi-gel. “Behold the power of medi-gel. You’re already closed up.”

Vetra laughed. “Well, shit. Already?”

“That’s why the shot didn’t hurt, either,” Fatima explained. “Medi-gel is an anesthetic and clotting agent all in one.”

“I’m not going to pretend I understand how it works,” Vetra said, “but it is pretty cool.”

“I’ll tell you over dinner sometime,” Fatima said.

“Why, Doctor, I do believe you’re flirting with me.”

Fatima winked, but commented nothing further on the subject. She sat down beside Vetra on the examination bed, giving her an affectionate nudge with her elbow.

“SAM,” she said, “update Vetra’s medical file with a log of this visit, please.”

“Yes, Pathfinder,” SAM replied. “Shall I send a message to Dr. T’Perro informing her of the changes?”

“No need. I’ll tell her what happened in the morning.” Fatima sighed. “Lexi’s not gonna be happy about me poking around her med bay, but she’d be even angrier if she didn’t hear it from me directly.”

“An admirable gesture, Fatima,” SAM said.

“I’m sure she’ll understand,” Vetra said. “Although now I understand why she’s always throwing you out of here.”

“I’m a pain in her ass,” Fatima confessed. “But I can’t lie. I miss my work.”

“You think she’ll be mad if I say I want you as my doctor instead of her?” Vetra asked with a grin.

Fatima threw her head back and laughed. “Oh, hell yeah, but not at you. She’d kill me if I stole one of her patients.”

Vetra bumped her shoulder against Fatima’s. “Don’t worry. I’ll protect you.”

Fatima smiled and leaned against her, resting her chin on her shoulder.

“How about this,” she said. “Next time you see her, just make sure you let her know what a great job I did fixing you up. Then, take a picture of her reaction. I’d love to see her face.”

Vetra laughed. “Deal.”

They sat companionable silence after that, letting the stress of the evening roll off their shoulders. Fatima enjoyed the close proximity between them. It always amazed her just how easily she fell into that routine with Vetra—smiling, laughing, flirting, touching—like it was all they’d ever known and ever would know.

Whatever direction they were headed, Fatima embraced it. She was treading uncharted waters in more ways than one with Vetra, but the prospect of something more blossoming between them looked promising. Most of all, she trusted Vetra, just like Vetra trusted her.

“I hope you don't mind my asking,” Fatima began, “but have you always been this nervous around medical stuff?”

Vetra shook her head and looked off to the side, embarrassed.

“It’s stupid,” she said.

“Not at all,” Fatima assured her. “Lots of people are scared of going to the doctor. I’ve seen it plenty of times. It’s normal.”

Vetra fell silent once more, as if she was contemplating something. She gripped the edge of the examination bed, knuckles twitching. When she noticed, Fatima ran a comforting hand down the length of Vetra’s back, and was glad when she felt Vetra relax under her touch.

“When I was younger, I broke my arm,” Vetra finally said, voice low. “I fell down while I was playing with some of the other neighborhood kids after school. I ran home crying to my mom, but she didn’t believe me. She thought I was lying in order to get out of going back to school.”

Fatima’s brows rose in shock. She recalled Vetra telling her about her mother’s neglectful attitude toward her and Sid, but she hadn’t considered the extent of it at the time. Vetra never elaborated.

“That’s awful,” she said.

“ _She_ was awful,” Vetra said. “That’s the thing you have to understand about turians. As a whole, we’re a high-minded bunch. But my mother took it to the extreme. I was never enough in her eyes.”

Fatima imagined Vetra as a tiny child, cradling a broken arm as she cried for the help and love that was denied to her by the one person who was supposed to supply it endlessly. The thought pained her.

“By the time my dad finally got me to the hospital, I was in so much pain,” Vetra continued. “Everything the doctors did hurt even worse. I’ve . . . been nervous around them ever since. I thought I would’ve outgrown it by now, but . . .”

She trailed off and sighed. Fatima lifted her chin and placed her hand on top of Vetra’s shoulder instead, giving it a comforting squeeze.

“Hey,” she said. “You did great.”

Vetra turned her head toward her, mandibles flaring in a brief smile.

“So did you. I’m sorry I ever doubted you. I still feel like an idiot.”

Fatima shrugged. “You didn’t know. Hopefully I was able to put your mind at ease.”

“You’re the only doctor who ever has.”

Fatima smiled shyly as a blush crept into her cheeks. She was normally immune to such flattery, regarding herself as a professional who simply did what she had to. But coming from Vetra, especially after hearing what she had endured, the compliment touched her deeply.

“Can I try to stand up now?” Vetra asked.

“Sure,” Fatima said. “That’s a good idea. Here, I’ll help.”

She slid off the edge of the examination bed and bent to retrieve Vetra’s boot. Vetra put it back on and then slowly eased herself onto the ground, carefully placing her weight on both feet. Fatima came toward her, taking Vetra’s hands into her grasp to help her balance.

“How does that feel?”

“Much better.”

“Think you’ll be able to make it to the crew quarters?” Fatima asked. “By the way, you might wanna skip using any ladders for the next day or so. Just in case.”

“Good call. I'll remember to take the elevator,” Vetra agreed. “Which reminds me, I need to go check up on something in the armory before bed.”

Fatima scowled, appalled that even Vetra of all people would consider returning to work in the middle of the night after all she’d been through that evening.

“I don’t think so,” she said. “Are you kidding me? You’re going straight to bed and getting a full night’s rest. Doctor’s orders.”

Vetra didn’t protest the way Fatima assumed she would. Instead, she looked at Fatima and laughed, sounding more carefree than ever. She turned Fatima hands in her own and laced their fingers together, giving them a gentle squeeze.

“Now there’s the bossy pathfinder I adore,” she said sweetly.

Fatima’s face grew even warmer. “Don’t make me keep you here overnight for observation.”

“Ugh, no thank you.”

“That’s what I thought.”

Reluctantly, Vetra released Fatima’s hands, and then turned to head for the exit. She stopped when she got to the door, leaning against the frame, and looked back over her shoulder.

“Thanks again, Fatima,” she said. “Seriously. It means a lot.”

Fatima nodded. She leaned back against the examination bed and crossed her arms, resisting the sudden urge to grab Vetra and keep her in the med bay after all.

Words, she reminded herself. Vetra needed words.

“I said I wouldn’t run out on you.” She met Vetra’s gaze meaningfully. “I meant it.”

“I know,” Vetra said. Her sub-vocals wavered with an emotion Fatima recognized immediately—gratitude. “I hope you know that goes both ways.”

“I do,” Fatima said softly.

Vetra offered her one last stunning smile before she turned and exited the med bay.

Fatima watched her go, her heart thrumming wildly in her chest.


End file.
